Who am I?

I have seen your anger

I have seen you being rash

I have seen you being irrational

I have seen you lash

I have seen you as an arrant rogue
I have seen you being loved
I have seen you being used
I have seen your devotion

I have seen your fondness

I have seen you happy

I have seen you helpless

I have seen you punish 'em

and when you've let 'em flourish

I have seen you threaten

I have seen you tremble

I have seen you being blamed

I have seen you being wanted

I have seen you change, 

forms and shapes, and,

I have seen your resolve

I have seen you repent

I have seen you cleanse

I have seen you calm

and I have seen you cry

I have seen you being bullied

I have seen you betray

I have seen you in pain

and when you loved in vain

However...

You are unlike the humans around,

You never fake.

In all, I have seen all of you.

Who am I to you, dear rain?

Wrinkles

I read my writings of a decade ago.
Vernal, vivacious, pithy and sharp.
Liberal, focused, aplenty and nimble.

And then, I immediately,
scrutinize my face in the mirror.
Wrinkled and dull.

I wonder...

If my mind became as vulnerable
as my skin had become--owing to its love,

Time.

Introduction to Violence

Wouldn't exposing kids to the act of buying meat from a butcher (and thereby to the cleaning process) be considered as an act of violence?

~ Running Thoughts, June 04

Hyperbole

Seeing a speck on one's own nose.

Of Death and Sufferance

Does death kill ego, hatred, and any other forms of misgivings? For a moment, I thought it did. No... Not really. Between two beings in a tensed relationship, it proves who won and who had the last laugh. Under the pretext of homage, the ego-clad victor stands tall towering over the dead, registering the fact that he has won the race of time. Of course, it is only a temporary relief. But then, we are all ingrained in accumulating brownie points through temporary aspects, be it measures, relief, or victories; such a temporal object the human is. We go behind all things ephemeral: beauty, fame, money, power and whatever falls in the line of that trajectory. Well, what else can we expect? There is but one thing that we do which is indeed anti-temporal. And that is dying.

If one believes in after birth, then even that is temporal. What does this one important act of mankind signify? Because I do not believe in after-birth, I assume that it hardly signifies anything to the dead. For those who are left to survive the death, it is loss, both monetary and non-monetary. But then, death also bestows the survivor with wealth, power, and the usual accompanying suspects. Death brings out what was never said before—of the dead and the things surrounding them. With matters concerning benefits, at times, it brings more estrangements and more misgivings.

Of course, when the death has nothing to do with power, money, and fame, it is pain. It pains from deep inside to come to terms with the vacuum and the desolation created by the dead’s absence. Our heart cringes even with the very thought about the loss of someone who filled your time and senses with joy… like the loss of your very own progeny. 

All said, even these after effects are ephemeral. Time stands a victor, gobbling up even the sorrow that death creates. Don't you forget the fallible human memory that plays the partner in crime with time.

And of sufferance, does death act as a means to reconciliation? In most cases, it does. It makes the intolerant to reconsider and let what was then a major rift to macerate into a passable event. 

Leave alone a situation of death... Even if there is a near-death situation, and if an opportunity for reconciliation presents itself, would we not think about disengaging our ego and come forth to express our forgiveness and be uber-human about it? If that can be done, can we not imagine such a hypothetical situation, be large-hearted, shed our hatred, and look to work in harmony with folks whom we cannot even stand the sight of? That one act of kindness would open up so much more possibilities for collaborative living. If not anything, it would, at the least, let us be at peace with ourselves. 

And certainly, next to work, sufferance is the deliverance of mankind.

Air

You sucked in so much of me,

only to blow out the light of my soul?

Hurt

Do I tell her: Don't ever hurt me again.
or
do I tell myself: Don't ever get hurt again.

<...writing... as I listen to the rain's chatter.>


Dated: Sep 15, 2016

Afar and Aimless

Seconds after you left me,
the void space around me
threw me afar and aimless;

like

the unknotted full-blown balloon
that is sucked and squeezed,
and pulled to nowhere.

Hopefulness

Sometimes...

words, of hope and positivity,
come rushing towards me

and jolts me
like a blow of vengeance.

Redemption

I am searching your eyes
For all the love that we lost
Over our anger, actions, and words,
For so long...

Will you redeem it for me,
My love?

Seconds

Anger... mine and yours.
You ask, "what about it?"

In a few seconds,
all was done.

Like that untethered
full-blown balloon,
devoid of its noose.

In one word: haywire.

Dust

Be wary and cognizant
of what you do with the dust:

Defense
Offense
Delayed defense
Delayed offense



...Aug 21, running thoughts...

P.S.: To be read in correlation with 'Dust and Truck'. 

Companions

What better companions than

The walls that back your spine,

The books that hold your heart,

The music that fills your senses,

And

The thoughts that create your mind!

...Aug 06, running thoughts...

Forgiver

Rain, my dearest!

I forgive you.


Yours ever,
Forgiver

P.S.: Apparently, my 200^th post!

What do i do...

What do I do with all the 

songs of my soul 
that do not see the vocal passage,

love in my heart
that do not penetrate the indurate,

tunes in my head
that do not become scales and notes,

thoughts in my head
that do not meet the monochromes of a paper,

light in my eyes
that do not see the words of a book,

fire in my spirit
that go unkindled.

weary

i am not running fast,
but i am gasping for breath.
i am not working hard,
but i am longing for a break.
i am not thinking through,
but i am feeling spent.
i am not shackled,
but i am aching for freedom.

Aftermath

After I was charred
And just when I began to sob,
I hear a child cry...

It was neither an obstinate
nor an unreasonable cry.

It resonated inside my entire self,
And felt like our cries were in unison.

My heart shattered...

Like the shattering
of the bridge that shared
the same vibrating frequency
as the march of the soldiers on it.

Charred

Of late,
Things are being spewed at me.
The hurling objects look to me
like glowing snow-like pebbles
smothered with ash.

Alas!
It is not until late that I realize
they are the radiantly glowing,
hot and fuming pieces of coal.

I chide myself
for being incognizant
of the mistaken identity--
of the words.

And...

I am all charred by then.

Heartaches

Heartaches are messy.
Especially the ones involving misunderstandings.

Thankful and Happy

It's not happy people who are thankful;
It's thankful people who are happy.

Greed

Why that urge to stuff 
as much of you 
as much as I can
inside my head and heart, 
my thoughts and soul?

Love sunk, again!

When I fell in love with a song, I always tried to translate it and quenched my thirst. If I loved it so dearly, I also wrote about it. And now, even though I have not written about this song as yet, and I am going to write about it now, I am not sure if the respect for this song is going to die down so easily… Honestly, I am so madly in love with this song that I am feeling so bad that I cannot translate it one more time!

Out of the blue, the thought to listen to it and make it fill my senses bloomed on a very tired night, when I was trying to keep a guard on myself and that is something that I am not going to talk about here, because it is going to be out of context. In fact, the song actually managed to hijack my concentration from a thing that has been holding my mind captive for days together now. However, without much digression, let me say the song that I am talking about. But before I plunge, I must say that music and writing has again come to my rescue.

The translation was dated Nov 23, 2011. The rediscovery is happening almost 5 years later. And I just discovered that I had written, ‘Childlike Joy’, when I had attempted to translate this song then. No wonder…! Well, I am talking about my fondness for this song.

So what is so special about this song? OK. So which song is it that is robbing me of much needed sleep… It is ‘Kadhal Vaithu’ from the movie, Deepavali.

First off, I think it is the verses, and the next two things that would go in hand would be the voice and the music. I am not really going to talk about the lyrics here because I think I have done justice to it. So, the next best thing is the voice. Vijay Yesudas literally dignifies this song despite a few shortcomings that exist in every song, which are a few necessary evil things, either to fill the time and space, and the void. He is so sincere, so matter of fact, so soaked in love, elated, so endearing and passionate, in that order from the moment he starts singing first word of the song. And then he goes off in the tone of a story teller, and then becomes a person who is so love sunk. And then, the music takes off…

The simple guitar chords that begin the song, the amazing violin in the early to the middle portion of the song, the sarangi in the later half, the brief and subtle piano at the end, and the closing violin that signs off the song epitomizes the way a composer can use the instruments so flawlessly.

Amazing!

Dated: Feb 16, 2016

Move on!

I was looking for 'move-on' quotes and here are some of them that I liked:

One of the hardest parts of life is deciding whether to walk away or try harder.
~Unknown

Moving on is hard.
Knowing when to move on is harder.
~Unknown

I am proud of my heart.
It's been Played, Stabbed, Cheated, Burned, and Broken.
But somehow...
It still works!
~Unknown

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...
~Dr. Seuss


At some point you will realize that you have done too much for someone, that the only next possible step to do is to stop.
Leave them alone.
Walk away.
It's not like you're giving up,
and it's not like you shouldn't try.
It's just that you have to draw the line of determination from desperation.
What is truly yours will eventually be yours,and what is not,
no matter how hard you try,
will never be.
~ Unknown

A quarter in my mind

Words of the quarter:

Euphoria
Addiction
Delirium
Therapies
Realization
Learning
Positioning
Placidity

The sweet thorn

You were that sweet thorn
That I could touch on and on
And I hate to say that
It is not so...
Anymore.

I am ready

The resurgent and rejuvenated me is ready
To lock horns with the raging bull...
called l i f e
dot

Sleepless

You illuminated my sleep 

with your memories,

and made the minutes of those sleepless hours

the switches to turn off the light.

OK... So, there may not be a parallel, but then the fact is that this post is certainly an inspiration of the following verses in the song, 'Thalli pogathey' from Acham Yenbadhu Madamaiyada...

Nagarum... nodigal...

Thasaiadi pole

Mudhugin mela

Vizhuvadhinale...

Vari vari kavidhai.


And my attempt to translate just that bit, an impromptu one...

The ticking seconds lash my flesh.

It pares the skin over my spine.

And so...

I write these streaks of verses.

Thanks to lyricist Thamarai for her beautiful verses!

Euphoria

You are the...

Thought—

the first one in my mind—after the sun blooms.

Smile

that creeps amidst the dispirited chores.

Sensation

that my feet feels on the beach.

Rhythm

in my spirited morning run.

Reason

for the verses in my poem.

Music

that I decide to play in loop.

Memory

that fills all my senses.

Feeling

when I talk to a long-seen best friend.

Euphoria

that the music I looped creates in my mind.

Translation of Mazhai Vara Pogudhe from Yennai Arinthal

There she comes, the rain.
And now, she begins to shower.
Would it do to not get soaked?

The flower garden is closing in.
And now, the place is oozing with charm.
Would it do to not get lost?

My heart floats
like the cloud-like soft cotton,
What do I do to redeem it?
I wonder to whom would it listen!

With her sea-like eyes 
she tranced me.
I have already gone lost,
and yet, it is all for good.

A bit on the fire, 
a bit on the river,
unsure and still, stands my heart.

With her dark eyes, 
the doe-eyed keeps stabbing me,
and yet,
the pain has such sweetness.

She asks me to live in,
in her dimpled cheek.
What a priceless boon
for a lifetime!

She dropped by when the moon slept in the clouds, 
and I was drawn deep in my dreams.
And yet, when she left, 
she never bothered to caress me.

The eyes would not shut
and the sleep would not arrive.
She named it love,
and blessed me abundantly with it.

She nears, and my heart goes ahead.
She goes, and my heart goes behind...
My heart! You are so stuffed with her memories.

Keep the eyes of the butterfly shut,
and yet, it still reaches the flower.
What about the rain?
It does have to reach the earth.

Where you stand, 
there reaches my eyes.
I am so fixated that you walk back and forth, 
and my heart just keeps vacillating merrily.

You... 
are the swaying peacock,
with your tail on my shoulders...
I would watch it trail by, 
all my life.

Mazhai Vara Pogudhe from Yennai Arindhal

After quite a long time, a song has caught me unawares, made me get hooked to it for its casualness, coolness, the romance in it, verve, and for its amazing lyrical quality.

Thamarai never fails to amaze me with her brilliance. She is just amazing! The song has the feel that the Ennai Konjam song from Kaakha Kaakha gave. The structure of the song and the way Karthik has sung the song kind of reminds me of the Karka Karka song in Vettaiyadu Vilayadu. However, it still has some very unique elements like the part where the lady hums and the veenai bit plays the second fiddle, and yet, it is the veenai that you strain and yearn to hear more. The veenai kind of reminds you of the striking way in which it was used in the Uyirin Uyire song in Kaakha Kaakha. But then, the pleasing undertones in this one just draws you in... And, looks like Harris has still not forgotten the guitar background that features in the 'Love at First Sight' song by Kylie Minogue. Kinda the same guitar bit that appears in the Manjal Veyil song in Vettaiyadu Vilayadu.

All said, Mazhai Vara Pogudhe is a beautiful song from the team. And when I say 'team', how can I miss talking about the visual? It has a real charm to it--the way the couple starts off with an SMS and ends with a beautiful romance bit. None to beat Gautham Menon for the way he makes the visuals for his songs. Of course, should I even say about the pair... This one, for sure, is such a beauty and would stay etched in the memories for quite some time now.

Translation of Mazhai Vara Pogudhe from Yennai Arindhal... Coming soon!

Music

I listen to music to beat my blues...

P.S.: Funny I just realized there is so much music even in that sentence that I just wrote!

After a long time!

Playing in loop: Just the way you are, by Bruno Mars.

Amazing is just not the word!

Emotion and Writing

At times, there are changes that warn you, worry you, and overwhelm you. And by the time it is all finished, you feel so spent. And then there are changes that are so subtle that you realize that things have changed only after everything is over.

The way things change in one’s life without any notice is such a mystery. And either ways, you are so disturbed that you become so sleepless by the event. And either ways, when you expel the emotion by writing, it certainly does a lot of good. It is better that way, because you become a much more composed person having tamed the beast called emotion.

You can pour it out on someone; but then, how much ever you talk about it, the intensity just does not abate, and at times, it grows on you and batters you.

Writing certainly tames your mind. As you spend time on writing, you get to take control of the situation and drive the outcome, rather than being a victim of the outcome.

So, w r i t e!

A Missive To Rain

Dear rain,

I know that you were furious and out of mind the last time you came out and played in the field. But then, I thought it was all over and you were never going to play the same nasty game again. 

This time around, you have misbehaved so badly, acted like a drunkard and caused so much fear and calamity out of the rampage act, that we folks out here have now begun to fear the word, 'rain'.

Now... hold on. I also hear that it is not you who did all this damage, but some of the folks who had feared you and in return, had to act recklessly. 

So, even then, you are not the one to blame, are you?

Anyways, even otherwise, you did act like a savage, throttling your enemy, the drain channel openings. Literally, the only thing I did not see come out of the drain hole were the two hands that would scream for help. Except for that, it was picture perfect--I did see them breathless and call for help.

And your other partner in crime, the man-made calamity... That was terrible. You seem to have annulled the concept of civilization--the aspect of separating  good water and bad water. And you seemed very good in practicing communism (everyone having the same needs and everyone having the same level of access to essential things). 

Well, you also clearly helped distinguish the bad from the good, opportunists from the altruists, and the selfish from the selfless.

Well... what else do I say. Yeah. The stone-age kind of life that we led in those days where there was no electricity, no internet, no phone, no interaction with the outside world, and that family to themselves, eating in the light of lamps and candles, lots of book time with the children, interactions during dinner time and otherwise, making the children go to sleep at 8 pm with no AC or fan.

The cars! You made funny situations where it was so ridiculous when I heard that for my car that was worth 4 lakhs, the estimate repair cost was 6 lakhs! How can that possibly be? So the sum of all parts of an entity is now greater than the cost of the entity. @Aristotle, I need a counter for this.


Parting Note:
For all capacity that you have to make beauty bloom in all its splendor, you showed that you also are capable to devastate and act as a savage... 

Kudos! Long live!


Yours,
reNUka

y o u

You are that sweetness
in your endearing and addictive
'I Love You's'.

Fear

Fear and worry clouds my head
when I do not keep in touch 
with you 
and
your ailment.

I am often left feeling guilty
and get distressed
When I imagine the situation
where
I would be told about you

instead of hearing you...

A prayer

I need the premonition,
rather than the news.

I need a premonition
like... 
you are irrevocably ill,
rather than hear the news
that you are no more.

And, I know I am being 
so very pathetic
by praying so.

You

You are the movement 
between our firmly affixed numb hands 
that provides the reaffirmation.

Your Voice

My auditory perception has been conscious of
either silence or your voice in my head.

P.S.: Wondering why I never posted this one...

r a i n

I am still wondering...
about the q u e s t i o n s.

Why that fury, dear rain!

Questions!

Why that fury, dear rain?
Is this some kind of an uprising?

Are you charged up against someone?
Were you stopped from discharging your duties?

Must we be the ones to bear your wrath?
Would we be able to bear your outbursts?

Are you the same gentle one who weeps so silently?

Are you mirroring the rudeness we bestow on the earth? 
Are you giving us a taste of our own medicine?

Or, are you just going through a phase, 
like me?

And, I wonder...
how you do this to me, 
Every single time you pour?

Dishevelled

Your hair was...
Neither your soul nor your spirits.

Thank you time!
And sorry...
to have disowned you, briefly.

Time

I have disowned time 
for betraying me
and have declared it to be a disgrace
for thieving away your time on earth.

I continue to stay intractable 
and refuse to make any contacts to you,
for the fear that 
someone else would answer, 
instead of you.

I am trying to avenge time 
by holding you immortal
through the last words that we spoke
some eons ago.

I would remain a fool. 
I know... 
because, t-i-m-e is everything.
It heals as well as hurts.

The circle called life

When thinking expands, the thought grows
When thoughts grow, the talk shrinks
When you talk lesser, your action excels
When actions excel, fame increases
When fame increases, you accumulate wealth
When wealth accumulates, happiness brims you
When you are happier, life blossoms
When life blossoms, pride ascends
When pride ascends, you talk more
When you talk more, your act shrinks
When you act lesser, fame decreases
When fame decreases, wealth reduces
When wealth reduces, life gets dull
When life gets duller, the thought grows

and yet again,

When your thoughts grow...


Source: WhatsApp foward
Translated from: A temple inscription in Tamil


The other day, I was wondering... what would I do without such quotes!
Here's for the New Year!!

Comfort

You are that piece of cloth 
that comforts my sweat-drenched lush hairline.

Translation of Poo Avizhum Pozhudhil from Enakkul Oruvan

So, here is the translation of the song Poo Avizhum Pozhudhil from Enakkul Oruvan. By the way, the song takes the credit of being one of the very few songs that has filled my ears the maximum number of times in a loop, without interference from other songs, for days together. There we go...

As the flower unfurls,

my mind sees a thousand dreams.

I float through one dream

and see the same moon.

From her face's innocence,

emerged a radiant smile

and it sprinkled

a myriad lucent flowers.

Then, the skin gets to feel

like the floating cloud.

The clouds entwine

to give birth to the rain.

Your verse traverses through

the notes of my breath,

And there surfaces, the music of love

that warmly drench my inner depths.

Like the effulgent moon

seen in the sky's breadth,

She'd be seen

in this man's expanse.

She spread her stellar wings,

Locked my fingers into hers,

Turned a blind eye

and drew me in dreams.

This is the one state

that escapes the length of time.

No wonder...

I see a million flowers

bloom on my skin.

Poo Avizhum Pozhudhil from Enakkul Oruvan

An intriguing start to this mesmerizing song gives you a feeling that you are travelling hand in hand with your lover into a safe and dim-lit tunnel. Not that just this music bit lets you visualize things; everything in the song spreads your imagination. What more can the lyricist ask for, to get noticed, if the music has already started expressing what you are about to say? One might wonder if it is the composer’s way all through… No. It is a level-play over the entire 4 minutes or so of the song—all elements in the song are in a state of controlled domination. And everything flows so mellifluously—the flow from one tune to another, from one pitch to another, from one thought to another, from one modulation to another, from one emotion to another.

Well if you had noticed the title, good for you. I forget myself so much when I listen to this song that I feel it is not surprising to have forgotten to say which song I am talking about. It is the Poo Avizhum Pozhudil song from Enakkul Oruvan (2014). I am so awestruck by its simplicity. And... Just listen to the strings throughout the song! Such a beauty... either it is subdued and acts as a moral support like a parent behind a kid learning to ride the cycle; or at times a companion to the singer, like the better half with an equal voice; or at times, like the friend who shouts in a chorus, disapproving of the teacher's blames when you are caught in the middle of a mischief at school.

Though the lyricist, Vivek had spoken about the words in this song in a different context, I am still not convinced that he was referring to just that context. I will still leave it to the listener to interpret the unsaid. And yes, very beautiful lyrics that delivers the right imagination for the mood of the song.

Do I even have to talk about Santosh's brilliance? He is a treat to my musical senses.

Not in context to this song, but pertaining to his capabilities, he has got the capability to score for a range of situations so aptly—for a harmless kidnapper who walks coolly after closing a deal, as well as for the yearning lover boy who just got noticed by his girl. What a repertoire!

Though I did not want to translate this song, something made me attempt it. Let's see if I was able to capture the beauty of the words in the song...

Mommy! It is still raining!

When I am happy and you are around,
I am all smiles. I keep my arms wide open.
I walk and look up at you.
I even think you are showering your love on me.

When I am sad and you are around,
I am sober. I don't even swing my arms.
I walk and wait for you to embrace me.
I even think you are crying for me.

And you know...?

I sometimes think that
the crucified Christ,
even with all his energy sapped,
shows his love for you.
He keeps his arms wide open
and is proud to have felt you,
before the rest of the world did.


P.S.: I hope you spot the analogies!

Paradox!

Rain, my dearest...

You bring in so much gloom,
and yet,
there is such glory when you arrive.

Dated - Oct 09, 2014

Rain of Tears

Sometimes my tears would not stop;
like blood gushing from a deep cut...

Ailment

In each minute of the waking hours that I get distracted

I think, 'why you'?

A lesson for the year

People who bitch to you about others are the ones whom you must be wary of... they will not twitch to bitch about you to others!

Book Review - Purple Hibiscus

The title, Purple Hibiscus, very much befits the crux of the tale and is indicative of the crossover of the meek children of a stickler perfectionist and a religiously fanatic father. The crossover is more from the point where they are children who are brought up to say only the most obvious and nothing extempore, and not being able to speak a sentence without stuttering, to children who become mature enough to be able to gather courage to shoulder a huge responsibility at the time of dire straits—especially the narrator Kambili's elder brother Jaja. The purple hibiscus is the shrub that grows at Kambili's aunt's house. Kambili's brother, Jaja, is in particular very interested in the color of the shrub and even brings a shoot from their aunt’s house so that he can grow it in their house. The purple hibiscus is really about Kambili’s brother Jaja.

What is surprising is the reverence and yearning that the children show, especially Kambili, towards their father in spite of his acts of flagellation. They love him in spite of his torturous dealings. 

One interesting aspect is about the presentation of the parts of the book. The Psalm Sunday chapter which is the turning point the novel is placed at the beginning and this makes us look forward to what really happened that made Jaja behave the way he did, and that made his papa behave so violently towards him.

The flow is seamless and the language is simple; it certainly is refreshing to see the simple yet striking analogies at regular intervals, throughout the novel. The Nigerian political situation and the unexpected small twists which are disguised as daily happenings in Kambili's life give the reader enough grip, seriousness, and suspense to hold on to.

As the story progresses, the contrasting elements unfurl and that too without being apparent—like the richness versus the thriftiness in the food that is cooked at Kambili's and the aunt's house; the post-colonial influences on the means of praying at the catholic churches versus the superstitious ways of the praying at the Africa's traditional temples; the abundance versus the dearth and resourcefulness in every aspect at aunt's house versus at Kambili's house; the claustrophobic and curtailed means of living for Kambili and Jaja versus the prevailing freedom of speech and the confidence with which the aunt's children are brought up; Kambili’s mother’s submission to Kambili’s dad’s harshness and her subservient and dependent attitude versus the widowed aunt’s forthcoming and independent attitude towards marriage, and much more.

Purple Hibiscus is altogether, a great debut, a good read, and a no-nonsense book! Kudos to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie! Waiting to read the book Half of a Yellow Sun...

Poetry

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

~ Robert Frost

Self-talk on abnormality

The Prologue
Concerning the idiosyncrasies of anyone, when unusualness lingers around for a long while,
it turns to abnormality; Of late, signs of cheerfulness has dissolved itself into nothingness and obsolescence prevails.

The Monologue
You know, it has been a while... since

I

Smiled at myself in the mirror.
Whistled or sang a note or two of my favorite tunes.
Listened to any of the songs in my collection.
Discovered any new music.
Wondered about the clouds, the sky, the moon, and the stars.
Enjoyed a good dose of the breeze caressing me.

Or
since I wrote or even attempted to...

And

It has been a while since all these thoughts
dawned on me, and...
I still do not want to do any of these,
or even if I did,

It fails to enthuse me.


So,

am I ageing or are these the usual signs of depression
looming around on my birthday eve?


P.S.: Will they let me fool around if I blame writer's block even if I have not thought about writing at all, forget not being able to move my thoughts or wanting to write?

P.P.S.: In fact, I feel like calling it quits; but don't know at what...!.

Hurt. Anger. Wisdom.

y | o | u

are not such a sweet thorn to be touched again and again... 

Translation of Aavaram Poo from Poo

If there are a few movies that I respect, then the one certainly in that list would be the move 'Poo'. A landmark movie for so many reasons, it is a tale of social messages, tragedy, sacrifice, friendship, hardships faced by economically backward, and so much more. I am not qualified enough to appreciate its technical brilliance, but I suppose the level to which it keeps its viewers engaged is certainly a mark of its brilliance.

The movie is about a woman who has been in love with her cousin. It shows largely her viewpoint, but the way a few others feel about the relationship come about very subtly; the others include her cousin, her mom and her sibling, her friend, and at last her uncle. Though their views are shown subtly, only those are harshly pelted on to the flower, and its feelings.

And if there is one person who can be said to walk away with all the laurels, it is Parvathi Menon. She just leaves one wanting for more, because she was not seen in any Tamil movies, in spite of her amazing histrionics. And of course, the director for the characterization of Maari (played by Parvathi). He has shown Maari as a person who bestows unconditional love on her cousin. So much so that if one has to understand the meaning of 'unconditional love', it is from her. How can a person still love the other, even after they know that the person can no longer be part of their life again? I say unconditional because, it is not with a compromise made on her marital life; she adores her husband and yet wants to see her cousin happy, but just in vain. Just amazing characterization!

This one song that I have attempted to translate (Aavaram poo annalil irunthe...) depicts the movie's storyline briefly--it says about the yearnings of a woman, here the flower; the flower, and hence the title of the film, Poo. A very beautiful and simple composition by S S Kumaran is brought to life by Chinmayi, with the way she emotes the flower's yearnings, for the unrequited love in her life, and the way she is poised in her life. Not to mention Na. Muthukumar's beautiful yet uncomplicated lyrics that portrays a person's state of affairs--it is one reason that it is mostly his songs that I often attempt to translate; it is just that I realize this only after I am done with most of the translation work.

Here we go...

For whom has this flower been waiting,
so forlorn?
It has kept its bloom, bearing the dusk, 
the noon, the rain, and the scorching sun...
just for you.

Will not the root know,
this flower's love for its own root,
even if unsaid?

It sways in the wind and follows your way.
It keeps all its petals unfurled,
with all juvenile memories, to its dismay.
All the age-old sweet nothings,
would be just mine for me to assay.

Dearth and the dead leaves shout aloud,
about shortcomings and sufferings.
And all my words, hush up into the cloud.

For a lifetime, it upholds a penance
standing one-legged, to become a garland 
that decorates your firm chest, perchance.
It freezes in the chill, holding its life,
and would flourish at your one glance.

You are its colors and its fragrance,
and would perish, 
if you forsake it...

Will not the root know,
this flower's love for its own root,
even if unsaid?

For whom has this flower been waiting,
so forlorn?
It has kept its bloom, bearing the dusk, 
the noon, the rain, and the scorching sun...

It has been a long time since I wrote, leave alone translated any. I hope I have done justice... 

Some thoughts for reference and reflection

Never cut what you can untie.
 ~ Joseph Joubert

The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.
 ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Perhaps no place in any community is so totally democratic as the town library. The only entrance requirement is interest.
~ Lady Bird Johnson

Santa Claus has the right idea. Visit people once a year.
~ Victor Borge

Asking a working writer what he thinks about critics, is like asking a lamppost how it feels about dogs.
~ Christopher Hampton

I told the doctor I broke my leg in two places. He told me to quit going to those places.
~ Henny Youngman

The day the child realizes that all adults are imperfect, he becomes an adolescent; the day he forgives them, he becomes an adult; the day he forgives himself, he becomes wise.
~ Alden Nowlan

Many a man who falls in love with a dimple make the mistake of marrying the whole girl.
~ Evan Esar

Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die, so, let us all be thankful.
~Buddhist Quote

The best way to escape from a problem is to solve it.
~ Alan Saporta

If the only tool you have is a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.
~ Abraham Maslow

Renunciation is not getting rid of the things of this world, but accepting that they pass away.
~ Aitken Roshi

Classical music is the kind we keep thinking will turn into a tune.
~ Kin Hubbard

The Beach Sand

You are like the beach sand in my house...
Annoying, yet a memento of the beautiful moments.

Down the memory lane

Yesterday, I had a chance to do an offbeat task. Visit my client office and collect some artifacts. All went well, and while coming back, I did not take the matter-of-fact and the serious main road but the casual by-lanes and oft taken routes. In that 10 to 15 minutes ride, I had refreshed and recollected about 5 - 6 years of my life, and more.

The no-entry rules and the workaround for that, the number of times stranded in the bottlenecks created by the traffic, the workaround for that, the chat kiosk from Kolkotta, the things that we ate—mishtti dhoi, paratha, pulkha, other bengali chat (in fact I wanted to stop and eat something there; but did not. I searched slowing down my bike and I think I had missed it), the times when I used to take the train to come back from office, the road that I used to take to walk and reach my house, the place where I lived, the vacant plot adjacent to the house that is now filled with enclosures, the cable TV office, my jogging track, the inspirations after the weekend run, the juice shop, the playground, the cricket matches conducted on the playground, the ATM, the early mornings of the gym days, the new super market, the various routes taken to reach the favored destinations.

It's been a good life!

Socrates' Triple Filter Test

Here is an interesting conversation between Socrates and an acquaintance:

Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?

Wait a moment. Before you tell me I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test.

Triple Filter?

That's right. Before you talk to me about my student, let's take a moment to filter what you're going to say. The first filter is Truth. Are you absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true"

No. I just heard about it and...

Alright. So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter - the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?

No, on the contrary...

So. You want to tell me something bad about him, even though you're not certain if it's true?

The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.

You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter - the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?

No, not really...

Well, If what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?

Translation of Nenjukulle from Kadal

I have tied you to my bosom,

unaware of the direction my living would wake to.

You bestowed such pristine looks

that my heart is now tarnished,

as a mirror splattered with water.

Colored beads and the watch on your left

are just enough 

to tame the beasts of the forest!

You were gone but your shadow did not.

When they fell between my bosom,

I rose to see you and have never ceased to rest!

Now, my heart is rigid and tensed,

like the umbrella spokes, strained and stretched.

The birds have slept and milk has curdled,

even the leaves on the trees have retreated!

At the time when the ones whooping have slept,

the one smitten with desire cannot respite, 

for even a few minutes...

Not a morsel slid through...

not even did a drop touch the throat!

Neither did the saliva see the tunnel's end.

How could the poor wretched lass utter a word?

Indeed, can the rubbered bangles yearn to jingle?

Well, it is not an exaggeration if I say that Nejukulle from Kadal is the new silence in my life. My ears are filled with just that and nothing else, except when I have to meet the obligations of mankind, you know, like listening to them when they talk.

And I am not too sure what in that song caught my fancy! Perhaps Rehman ruling through his harmony on the accordion. I think, for a fact, the accordion and the violin gains more sound space than the singer. Or maybe,  its because I am seeing this song performance as a first of its kind--the MTV unplugged session. And undoubtedly, Sakthi Shree Gopalan does a very neat job.

Whatever the case maybe, I loving it. 

Every bit of it. 

I may have more to say but no words would fit!

Repentance

The rain poured softly,
very unlike and strange,

perhaps weeping silently,
for its past and future sins
that it could not wash off...

even by itself?

~ a few weeks ago

If we try - Don McLean

When I see you on the street, I lose my concentration.
Just the thought that we might meet, creates anticipation. 

Won’t you look my way once before you go
and my eyes will say what you ought to know?
Well, I've thinking about you day and night
and I don’t know if it'll work out right.
But somehow I think that it just might,
if we try... 

Faces come and faces go, in circular rotation.
But something yearns within to grow beyond infatuation.
Won’t you look my way once before you go,
and my eyes will say what you ought to know?
Well, you've got me standing deaf and blind
'cos I see love is just a state of mind,
and who knows what it is that me might find
if we try... 

You are walking in a different direction
from most people I've met.
You're giving me signs of affection
I don’t usually get.
I don't want you to pledge your future,
the future is not yours to give.
Just stand there a little longer
and let me watch while you live. 

‘Cos when I see you on the street, I lose my concentration.
And just the thought that we might meet, creates anticipation.

This song just caught me off guard when I was concentrating on my work (you know, something like the sour-sweet grapes). 

One of the aspects of a good song is when you realize that it has finished playing too soon. And this one certainly falls in that category. Simple, meaningful, interesting lyrics. And nothing really to talk about the composition. It just flows through! It has been a long time since I had listened to such a song with so much concordance! It is a short song and one can certainly quote this song as an example for 'short and sweet'.

Calories!

Not much, there are just three problems with calories:

• our spend potential: the cost of acquisition is cheaper than the cost of disposition.
• our state of mind: you hardly need any mind control to accumulate it than that you would need to dispose it.
• our time management capabilities: you can access it is quicker than you can expend it.

Of course, the key to disposing the calories lies in the same three factors... like how we do not accumulate calories overnight, disposing it must also be incremental—minute by minute, and with a lots of mind control. And if we are poor enough only to buy incremental calories, and not rich enough to find means to dispose it, I think we must also realize how much we are spending on junk! I guess I must try to deposit an equivalent incremental amount somewhere in a savings which when accumulates large enough would let me buy an equipment of my choice. 

Coming to talk of buying an equipment, with all the search and research that I have done so far, the only conclusion that I could come to was, to get a quality equipment that would give us the satisfaction when we get out of it and the urge to get on to it every day, it would cost nothing less than 50K INR.

Thinking about the realization part, I am sure I would have spent more than 50K INR in eating out in the last 10 years. Hmm... Some food for thought!